


Seared skin

by Yoruhime



Series: Fire and ashes [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Disturbia series-related, Gen, M/M, Season 4 AU, Spoilers for Season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4137987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoruhime/pseuds/Yoruhime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You're staring”.</p><p>Peter's amused voice cuts though Derek's musing, and he blinks, surprised to have let himself get lost in memories. It seems that his lover's presence, even when only that of a double's, is enough to make him lower his guard, consciously or not. The elder man watches his guest, seemingly weighting his words, before asking,</p><p>"What were you thinking about ? Something about... <em>him</em> ?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seared skin

**Author's Note:**

> Eeer... Hi ? *coughs * Ahem. So. I'm sorry, really, with how much time passed since my last chapter - for my defense, RL truly got in the way, and writing took one hell of a backseat. I hope it'll be better from now on, but I'd rather make no promises.
> 
> Today, we're delving into the past a little (my Derek's past, which means a few more spoilers for TSWE). And of course we keep up with the episode's timeline, even if a few things moves around here and there^^
> 
> So, if anyone is still following these OS, I hope you'll enjoy !

Derek slips into the loft after Peter, quickly taking in his surroundings. As far as he can see, nothing has moved or changed. No obvious traps, then, but again Peter Hale isn't one for basic, simple plans. He was saying the truth earlier, when he said he wanted to exchange intel – his heart hadn't faltered.

Still, you'd have to be a fool to believe that the man is nothing but ruthless once he wants something, and Derek knows him more than enough to be wary, at the very least. But if his deductions about his other him's Gift are true, he suspects it's the case for his lover's doppelganger as well. No mental hits to fear. And he's not an Alpha.

It could be far, far worse. Derek has dealt with more difficult hands than this one. Still, no need to be antagonistic if the situation doesn't require it, especially since he needs Peter's information. He walks to the sofa and takes a seat uninvited. Not that Peter seems to mind, busy as he is taking out a beer out of the fridge. He half-turns with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

Derek rises an eyebrow right back, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Wow. Polite _and_ good host. You really want your intel, huh?”

Peter waves the comment aside as he takes his own seat, like a mirror of their positions hours ago. “Let's forget this slip of mine, would you? You were right, it was downright rude on my part, truly. In my defense, I do not appreciate strangers crashing in my loft. Or mysteries. Still, I do apologize, for the sake of our future business if nothing else”.

It's strange, Derek muses as he takes a swing of beer, how alike the man is to his Peter. The tone, the remarks. Even the eyes, a deep, piercing, cunning blue... Only one thing makes the difference glaringly obvious (the earlier attack aside) is the face, free of any scars. It's almost weird to see him that way, his handsome features unmarred the oh-so familiar burn marks.

His Peter never erased them, always keeping his healing from making it all disappear, even long after Kate's body had cooled and the blood from her ripped throat had dried on her skin and clothes. Despite Malia's initial fear and questions, the Alpha decided to keep the old wounds untouched – and Derek gets it, for the scars are a reminder, just like the tattoo between his shoulder blades.

There are some things that should never be forgotten. Some pains and survivals that you deserve to wear on you body as a badge of strength, for all the times you were pushed beyond what's human to bear, and came through all the same. 

“You're staring”. Peter's amused voice cuts though Derek's musing, and he blinks, surprised to have let himself get lost in memories. It seems that his lover's presence, even when only that of a double's, is enough to make him lower his guard, consciously or not. He shakes his head ruefully but meets his interlocutor's eyes all the same.

“And you were staring right back”. He shrugs, not overly concerned. “I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I suppose. But I doubt it”. 

Peter doesn't bother acknowledging the fact, since they both know it's true. He watches his guest instead, seemingly weighting his words, before asking, “And what were you thinking about ? Something about... _him_ ?” No need to ask who _him_ refers to, but for a second Derek feels a strange sense of defensiveness.

Rare are the people who can understand what's between Peter and him, the way their ties go by blood and Pack and then far beyond it. Many (the Hales, and others in the community), only see two family members in an incestuous relationship. Omegas, Gifted and disgusting, depraved men in insane lust with each other, nothing more.

Well, not that Derek argues the last point. It took time, but they cleared the air, forgiven each other. It was painful, messy and often bloody, but they also discovered along the way that feeling betrayed didn't keep you from wanting someone so hard it hurt. Even while tearing into each other, while on the hunt for Kate, how often had they fallen fucking on the nearest surface ? Lust and rage, tangled together, mostly on Derek's side because he couldn't trust anymore.

Leaving bruises and marks all over Peter in both unspoken claim and a desperate desire to find enough lust to drown the rage and the fear always clawing at his insides, knowing deep down that Peter wouldn't leave, not again, not after he had taken care of Derek for weeks... and yet terrified of it. And all the more furious at his own weakness.

It had been a vicious circle, truly, one Derek had taken a long, long time to get out of. He doesn't remember when it stopped, how Peter's steady presence become natural once more. But it did, one morning, waking up beside the man. Noticing the bruises all over his neck and wrists, hips... the ways his claws had raked bloody, deep gouges on the Alpha's sides, back and tights. The lips, shredded by fangs. 

And Derek hadn't thought _mine_ as usual, hadn't felt any satisfaction. Just disgust at himself, at what he had let himself become because he had been driven by fear and hurt and raging possessiveness. He had fled, without a word or a warning, desperate to just get away. To take a look at himself without his mixed feelings about his lover getting in the way.

And when he had came back, three months later... Peter should have been furious. Or gone. Or at least done with the wreck Derek had become. He hadn't.

_“Hello, love. Why don't you come in ?”_

_Derek watches the Alpha, unsure of what to do faced with the calm, open welcome. He had expected ravings and arguments, to see Peter with red eyes and searing anger. Not... this, whatever this is. A hard shiver rakes his frame, and he exhales slowly, trying to bypass his exhaustion and hunger. He came ready to fight, and now, he doesn't know what to do._

_Peter seems to sense his confusion, and his smile disappears to let a more serious expression take its place. He observes Derek for a second, and, with a sigh, steps under the pouring rain as well. He is immediately soaked through, not that he seems to mind. The Alpha approaches slowly, like he isn't sure how close would be too close._

_The older man finally stops a meter away. Under the downpour, his eyes seem almost black, his expression somber. There is pain in on his face, pain and guilt and shame. And hope. “I didn't want to... overwhelm you, so I was ready to act like nothing happened. To... broach the subject later. But Derek, I... I'm sorry. God, I'm so, so deeply sorry”._

_Peter advances carefully, watching Derek's every reactions, but the young wolf doesn't protest when the Alpha steps well into his personal space. Theirs bodies are almost touching, close enough that the scent of Peter's skin surrounds Derek like smoke. The low voice pierces though his spellbound state._

_“I would have said it before, but you weren't ready to hear it. Our link had become so tenuous, I didn't want to risk pushing you away. But now...”_

_Peter closes the last centimeters between them, pressing their foreheads together. “My hunt has been the most important thing for me as soon as I got out from the coma : I said it, and I meant it. But if I had known the price **you'd** pay for it, I would have never left you back then”. Peter rears back to look at him, eyes more earnest than Derek has ever seen them. _

_Or maybe... maybe he's simply ready to listen. Finally. To face his demons head on rather than fleeing into anger and lust. He closes his eyes, helplessly falling into Peter's warmth and aura. For the first time in six months, he doesn't doubt the Alpha will catch him – he doesn't have to stand alone, not anymore._

_And he is proved right when strong arms close around him, tugging him against Peter's frame, blissful, perfectly solid and **there**. “I swear it”, Peter murmurs into his hair. “You are the most precious thing I have, love. My sanity and my heart. I'm here. Always and always”._

_**Always and always.** _

_Yes. It had become the words that defined their relation, more than any grand declarations of love. Always here, always ready to defend and kill for each other. Always equals. Omegas. Gifted. Lovers. How did they stray so far from the path ? How, when did they become capable of hurting each other so much ?_

_The fire ? Alexander's deeds ? Peter's rise to Alpha ? The hunt ? Or maybe all of it thrown together. The world against them, dealing blow after blow, steeling them more and more, each wound becoming one more layer into their armor. And making their words and acts so much sharper, angrier. More savage. They've come closer to rogue than they wanted to admit._

_Perhaps they had needed this, these months apart. To realize who they were, what was left of them after their war. Lick the wounds and acknowledge them before you let them scar. “I... I don't even know how to trust anymore. How to... lean on you, or be gentle or carefree. How to be who I was”. The words rise unbidden from Derek's throat, slipping past his lips, wracked from his chest._

_“I feel like a broken doll badly stitched together”, he finally murmurs. “Ready to shatter, and so ruined it can barely function, except when flying into a rage. Or lust. All the other feelings feel muted, like... I know I should feel something, but nothing comes. I'm just... empty”._

_A hand slips on Derek's nape, slowly tracing circles on the back of his neck, and that's when he realizes how tense he has gotten, almost shaking with grief and disgust at his own, messed-up state. He's not even sure how he found so much to say. It had been like some dam had burst._

_For several long moments they simply stand there, holding on to one another. In a way, it's like they have come full circle, back to the first time they had been embracing. It had been joyous and so easy at the time. It feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed._

_They both are so broken in so many ways... and yet, like an improperly mended bone, sometimes brokenness can be the path to setting things straight. “We'll get through this”. Peter's voice is fierce and soft all at once against his ear. “I'm here. As long as you want me, I'm here”._

_Derek presses his face on his lover's shoulder and breathes fully in over a year._

Derek watches his host, thinking, taking his time to formulate his answer. How deep is he willing to delve, to explain ? This is Peter, and yet it isn't – maybe he wouldn't judge, but it would be born of sociopathy, not understanding, so what's the point ? And besides, Derek needs no-one's blessing to say he loves his Peter. Never had, never will.

So he decides to keep it basic. “You're different, that's all. He has scars from the fire, on the left side of his face, and down his whole body. I was surprised the first time I saw you : I didn't understand how you could have healed it while not being Alpha”.

“Didn't Scott explain ?”

Derek snorts. “Scott's scent cannot seem to settle between wariness, disgust or pity when he's around you. I take his word... carefully. Besides, he proved on the way to BC that he wasn't the brightest tool in the box, either”.

Peter smiles and rises his beer in a mock-toast. “Finally, someone sees the light. I'll drink to that”. The man takes a sip from his bottle. He, too, takes his time answering any query. They're wary, the both of them – two predator recognizing each other and slowly circling. “To make it short, I did turn Alpha, briefly. Scott and his righteous ways couldn't stand to let me rip hunters into shreds, and he...stopped it.”

Derek's eyes narrow. He knows more than anyone how a single mistake or moment of weakness can put you in a terrible situation ; he payed enough of a price at Alexander's hands to be aware of that. But still, this is _Peter_ . “This moron barely in tune with his wolf got the drop on you ? I'm ashamed on you behalf, really. And so what, he took you Alpha status ?”

Many people would have taken it badly, but Peter actually smirks. “In my defense, it was five against one. Plus two Argent. And a little redheaded bitch with Molotov cocktails. But I'll admit it wasn't my finest moment. Bitting the boy was a stupid move”. Derek stares at him. “Instinct”, the man shrugs. “I wasn't thinking too clearly”.

His eyes get this dangerous, dark gleam as he appraises his guest before adding, almost off-handedly. “And as for the Alpha power, that was you, in fact. You slit my throat, to be precise.” If he expected horror, it certainly falls short. Derek's eyebrows rise in obvious surprise, but beyond that he simply nods slowly, face somber.

“So you were that far gone, huh...” He shrugs at Peter's exasperated click of tongue, meeting his gaze evenly. “I would never have killed you short of that. I would have struggled to the bitter end to get you back. But, yes, if it had been a question of you killing of anyone around... there is a limit of you far I can stretch my morals, even for you.”

“But you understand, don't you ? Vengeance and pain, each drop of blood feeling like a balm, like a win. A proof you're alive, that you survived”. Peter watches him, intent on his answer. Alexander's face flashes before the younger wolf's eyes, and he remembers ripping from Peter's iron-like hold to crash into him, tearing and clawing and biting like a wild animal, each gouge calming the terrible storm raging into his thoughts.

“Yes. I do get it. Probably even better than you think.”

“Thought so”. Peter seems to hesitate momentarily before he continues. “He doesn't. My Derek. He thinks it disgusting, considers it murder. Say we have to be the better men, to not turn into what the Hunters accuse us of being. And he's not you : he doesn't accept the darkest part of himself. Just trying so hard to be good, so unwilling to see the shades of gray. How comes you do ?”.

Derek laughs at his face. “Good try, but if you think a bit of conversation is enough to distract me, I'm going to take offense. Give me some credit, would you ? I'm not so easily manipulated, love. I do live with you, after all.”

Peter's lips quirks. “So it seems”, he murmurs. His gaze is openly appreciative as it lingers on his guest. “Pity you don't intend to stay. You'd be useful, certainly a lot more than our world's version of you”. The tone is easy enough, but Derek recognizes a veiled attack from his lover (or his lover's doppleganger) when he hears one. Back to business, then.

And that means going back to what Derek does best : being direct. “Do you know how to get me back home ?”. The young wolf expected a nebulous answer or a half-lie, but Peter shakes his head without hesitation.

“No. But I know more about the Aztec lore than anyone in town – including Deaton. I am not stupid enough to go to Mexico without understanding what I'm stepping into. I'll even prove my good faith : the Aztec in themselves aren't of any interest to you. The temple Scott found you in was devoted to worshiping the Naguals. The werejaguars, if you prefer.” 

“Why tell me freely ?”

Peter's smile comes and goes, swift and thin. “Because you were frank with me, and because I respect you enough to know you'd see through a lie. And because now, I want my own, true answer in return. Who is Malia ?”

Derek hesitates for a heartbeat – he is almost as protective of Malie as he is of Peter, and it's a knee-jerk reaction to deny his knowledge about the girl. She's his daughter and little sister all in one, the only member his lover and him let in in their strange Pack of two. A lost child, a wolf turned feral by guilt and grief.

They could have left her behind after she had found her equilibrium once more. Their pack, their status as Omegas... the lives they lived were dangerous and far from stable. Leaving Malia in BC, back into civilization, could have been enough. But they hadn't. She's one of them, now. Not Gifted, but alone and savage and harsh. 

Like father, like daughter, Derek supposes. And that makes her Pack, no questions asked.

Yet... the Malie of this world isn't his, just like this Peter is not his lover, not deep-down. In the end, they are doubles, and what Derek wants is his pack, his universe and loved ones. And for that to happen... well. Fulfilling a bigger goal asks for sacrifices : in order to win, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.

“She's your daughter”, he announces finally. Ha can see it's not truly a surprise ; Peter was expecting the answer already, at least a little. Still, he shifts on his armchair, leaning in towards Derek, expression keen and thoughtful, visibly intending to ask for precisions.

That's when the fist growl echoes right outside, deep and raw, full of primal instinct. And with it, the clattering of bones and the scent of decay.


End file.
